On a wing
by Kkas
Summary: After suffering from amnesia, Deidara is taken in by Itachi to try and remember. But when he finds out about the little 'project' they've been forced into, and this strange, dormant feeling in the presence of a certain redhead, what will ensue? SasoDei.
1. Crazy world

**Hi guys, I'm here with a new Sasodei multichap! I intend for it to be quite a ride, so hold on. XD And please, enjoy. *bows* For once I don't have much more to say than that! C'ept that there will be better humour eventually. But It's more like Humour/Romance/Angst/Hurt/Comfort. XD To play it safe I've put it under Romance/Drama, but let me know later on if you think it should be changed!**

**Summary(full): After ending up with amnesia prior to a violent accident, Deidara is taken in by Itachi to try and get his memories back. But when he finds out about the little 'project' they've been forced into, and the strange, dormant feelings he feels in the presence of a certain redhead, what will ensue? SasoDei.**

**Disclaimer: Kishimoto owns Naruto. I just resurrect the dead and have them fall in love. :D Oh wait-**

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><p>"So, we usually encourage our patients to be close to the things that they used to love. But it seems as though you have no problem remembering most <em>things<em> you love, so it'll be the _people _you love that matter most." The pretty blonde told me. She was a psychiatrist for people with amnesia, and I'd gotten to know her pretty well in the time I'd been living here. This place that was as blank as my memory. She called me kid, and I knew her as 'Ino'. She wasn't much older than me, as she'd had a fast track study of mental health through her father and extended family that specialised in it. Twenty-four, she'd said she was. And I was nineteen.

I kicked my legs, watching them dangle from the hospital bed I sat on. She'd finished giving me my last physical before I left this place, and was telling me all the last things I needed to know. But her reasoning, or the hospital's, at least, didn't make any sense to me. How could I be around the people I loved, if I didn't know them? You could put me with anyone and I wouldn't know the difference. I'd learned that sometimes amnesia changed a person for good. Would I even think of them the same way again?

I looked up at the sound of the tatty plastic wheels from years of gliding abuse from lazy doctor's asses while she approached me with a clipboard and a pen. The sight of her fluorescent orange nail polish was slightly disturbing, but it gave me the itching sensation to…do _something._ A morbid destructiveness. I almost wanted to start ruining this pristine, white office. Make the furniture cover the bland white I'd been staring at.

"Sorry, kid. But I have to do this if you wanna get out of here." I rolled my eyes.

"Just do it." I shrugged, waiting for the onslaught of questions they'd ask a three year old.

"Name?"

"Deidara Iwa."

"Age."

"Nineteen."

"Your height the last time it was checked?" Her mouth curled up as she asked this one. She'd taken my height a little under an hour ago. And at my age, it's not like it was changing. It was embarrassing how she was taller than me though. She was pretty much the only person I paid attention to around here. I'd been dubbed 'the emo art kid', which I was pretty proud of. I didn't even have the equipment to make real art. "5'5.4 ft" I mumbled, irritated.

She scribbled something down before putting her ice blue eyes back on me. Her platinum blonde hair covered her eye, much like how my honey blonde hair did. She admitted she was 'inspired' by me, but at the time, I'd just thought she was probably sucking up to me to get on my good side and let it be. She snorted at one of the questions on the sheet. "Right. What colour was I wearing yesterday evening?"

"Blue."

"And the number of pencils I brought you yesterday?." I could tell she was somewhat ad-libbing or tweaking the questions a little.

"They weren't even good. Seven."

"Okay. I'm satisfied that your short-term memory is still in order…" Eyes glued to the clipboard, and writing something in her obscure, 'I'm-a-doctor-so-im-writing-shit-on-purpose-so-you-can't-read-it' scrawl, she began to change the tune of the questions a little.

"Deidara, what season is it?"

"Autumn."

"And what's your favourite?"

"This one."

She cocked her head to the side, a silent 'why'.  
>I grinned. There was one thing that would never leave me, as long as I lived. One thing I'd always thought, felt, believed. It was my very soul, and something I could depend on, even when I couldn't on my mind. Ironic, I suppose. "Because of the bonfires."<p>

She nodded. "And what's your favourite subject." She spoke to me in question format, but it didn't sound like one, since we both knew what I was going to say.

"Art. Cause it's a bang." I nodded happily, my fingers tightening and my heels thumping at the bed behind me. The odd vibrating it caused in my ankle bones and the clinking sound that reached my ears helped sooth my restlessness.

"When is your birthday?"

"May 5th."

"The high school you went to…?"

"Iwagakuen."

"Do you remember any electives you took?"

"No."

"And, any family?"

"No, Ino. You know I don't remember anyone."

After a pause, and some more chicken scratch, she pushed off of the bed, somehow avoiding getting her ridiculous five inch heel stuck in the bed frame, and returned to the desk. I leaned back on the bed, the clicking no longer satiating my hunger for freedom.

"Well, there's still the holes in your memory. You remember basic things. Some details about yourself, such as birth. Though you don't remember your family or birthplace, or any birthday in particular. You remember what school you went to, but not what you studied, or anyone from it. We can obtain academic information for you, or have a friend fill them in. The only preference you remember from before the accident that caused your amnesia is that…you're somewhat a pyromaniac…And you love art. That's right, yeah? But you're not forgetting anything you're taking in as of now, and your motor skills and speech are still perfectly fine. Hopefully because of the nature of your amnesia your memories will return to you, through the method that I mentioned earlier. Fortunately you're old enough to live without a guardian, or parent, so I've arranged for your friend to take you home to live with him. He visited you while you were in the coma, so you'll get to meet him soon. Stick close to him, and he'll be trying to fill in the blank spaces, and encouraging you to remember things for yourself. Keep in mind that you'll be having weekly appointments, mid-week at noon, and I'm going to supply both you, and your friend with journals that I want you to fill in of any thoughts or feelings, whatever that you feel are important, that I'll be looking at. I'll give you an example sheet, but I wanna see some creativity in that so-called artist's brain of yours, okay?" She handed the items mentioned to me during her little speech, and then left with a little intern that had told her my 'friend' was here to collect me. Moments later, I was following her though the pallid hallways that had made me stir-crazy all these months.

The window's were translucent, and thick with shatter-proof glass, so we couldn't really see out of them properly, but the sunlight still streamed defiantly through, lighting the only hall in the place. Which was, funnily enough, the lowest-security place that I had lived in. Rapidly, as we got further into the building, and the loud, single repetitive sound of Ino's clanking shoes hitting tile began to get drowned out by the buzz of human motion, my restlessness died, instead curling up into a disgusting, compressed ball of tight dread rotting in my stomach. I wasn't born yesterday. Simulated interactions with people, and having to learn a lot of simple things again, like using traditional Japanese chopsticks again, _and_ western cutlery, and table manners, and etiquette, and all that crap; In the back of my mind I knew it'd be nothing like that. What if this person didn't like me? What if I was actually a total douche, or boring? What if I'd been a douche before, and now I was a saint? What if _I _didn't like my 'friend'? I'd be stuck living with them if I wanted a place to stay. And who's to say they were really my friend? They could be some sick stalker that just claimed to know me. They could be the person that caused my accident. All I'd been told was that I was found at the bottom of some kind of Cliffside. What the hell I'd be doing near one of those was questionable. But I couldn't exactly say it didn't sound like me…After all, I didn't _know_ me.

"Watch it ki-" She started as I collided with the back of her. She'd stopped in front of a big door, as translucent as those windows. Only one side of the door was open, and true, un-filtered sunlight danced through it and tried to find purchase in the fluorescent room. From the sociable expression on her face, I could tell it was my new roommate through the left side of the door that I couldn't see from my place on the right of her. Suddenly, the dread intensified, and I didn't want to leave this place at all.

"Dei, meet your friend Itachi."

Realising I was being a pansy, and that the world needed to be re-introduced to my essence of art, I stepped forward swiftly, putting myself in the line sight of 'Itachi'. I don't know what I'd been expecting, but either way, I was shocked.

In front of me stood a boy, although a considerable few inches taller than me, youthful looking and clearly not the pervert I had imagined would be taking me with them. He had glossy, noir hair, tinted brown I could see from the sunlight, the bangs falling into his bright red eyes, framed with girly-looking lashes, and lined with the longest stress-lines I'd ever seen. His expression managed to be both bored looking, yet cordial, as he watched me in return. He seemed…very serene. I'd say regal, but he also looked like the type to soak up compliments instead of have them go over his head, so I'd refrain from enlarging that ego I was sure he had any further. He was dressed in a simple black band T-shirt, wearing a matching cardigan , sleeves rolled up to his elbows to show off a leather wristband adorned with red, white-lined clouds. I didn't know why, but my unease seemed to settle slightly as I noticed it. He was in slim, navy jeans, and black canvas shoes, and his nails were painted violet. I'd never seen a guy wear nail polish inside here, even though practically all the women did. I guessed it was another one of those realities I was going to have to get used to. After a moment of sizing each other up, he grew bored, raising a slim eyebrow at me. I almost scowled. I'm the one who didn't remember him, why did I have to start the re-introduction?

"Hey." I nervously chuckled, scratching the back of my head and nodding my as I remembered to lean into a little bow. "Sorry I don't remember you or anything….And I'm sure you know, but I'm Deidara."

I had to blink twice to believe it, but his lips had curled up into a smirk. I'd been starting to think that they couldn't move. "I know. And I'm Itachi. I'm nineteen, too. You'll be living with me, my mother, my little brother, and…..his friend. Who _'doesn't live with us, but merely has a whole set of clothes for the majority of nights he spends with us.'" _I didn't bother to hide rubbing my eye when the smirk grew devious.

After a little more light introduction, I was discharged from the hospital and half way home in a suave car, so sleek and quiet it reminded me of a panther. This guy liked his black, I noted. Even the windows were tinted. But he hadn't said anything when I wound the window down, so I assumed I was in the clear.

I eyed the radio a couple of times, my urge to fidget returning. I'd had enough silence for a while, but Itachi didn't seem to mind it at all. It wasn't exactly awkward, which I found strange. To me, this meant that subconsciously I was used to hearing nothing from him. However, I was sweating on the inside. Pressure to behave in a way that he was accustomed to was making me unable to stand myself. I could almost feel the sweat forming on my brow.

Suddenly, the interior of the car sprang to life with a hushed resonance. It startled me, but at the same time it was quiet, enough so that I was more soothed by the sound than off-put. From my peripheral vision I watched his hand replace itself on the wheel, having missed him actually turning the radio on. I'd had little opinion of the music Ino brought me; she was into Pop, which had no appeal at all. But I felt compelled to still, and listen to the lyrics that intertwined with the slightly whimsical audio. Once again, I'd been surprised in Itachi, not that I knew why.

_'Remember to breathe, because it'll take your breath away,'_

"This is your type of music, then, Itachi-san?" Once again it was _I_ who had to break the ice. I figured he should cut me some slack, but I suppose turning on the radio had been his silent was of saying 'relax'.

He shook his head, his expression scarcely changing. He inclined his head towards me slightly, bangs fluid and moving with him, almost a mind of their own. "Not exactly. I'm more into new wave and electronic sort of stuff."

"Is that not what that is?" I asked.

He cocked his head to the side as if listening. "Yes."

I waited for him to add more, and yet no such thing happened. What on earth was he trying to say? From that little smile on his face, I imagined he was trying to be difficult. Either than or he enjoyed annoying me. I scowled.

_'Remember to live, 'cause you're gonna be thrilled to death,'_

I realised that Itachi was only one of many people I was going to meet, and that it wasn't worth being haggard over. I hopped they weren't all closet jerks like this one. Then again, he wasn't a closet anything. Unless he was a pervert. And why him out of everyone that may have visited? From what Ino had said, there was no way to contact my parents. Not through school, my friends, or by any other means. Who was to know if they existed?

Did that mean I hadn't had contact with them before my accident? If so, why? Why was it that I'd forgotten things, and nobody would or could give me answers?

The thought was isolating. And maddening. Thrust back into the convoluted real world, with music, people I had no idea how to interact with, and objects and places I'd never known before that could have seemed like home in my last lifetime. That's what I dubbed the time I couldn't remember. A lifetime. I couldn't feel my memory coming back anytime soon, and in the event it never came back, I'd have to start appreciating this to keep me sane. Many people would die to be able to live again, give up a lifetime in return for another. The only thing that haunted me was wondering if I was one of them. The advice I'd give them, is that waking up in a hospital to a world with not one face in it you know, is a very pitiful thing indeed. Which reminded me.

"Itachi…You visited me in hospital?" Neither one of us said so, but he knew I knew he could sense the silent _"What happened to me?" _that hung in the air.

_'Remember to scream because you're gonna be lost for words,'_

"We…You were found at the bottom of a Cliffside." He answered. The answer seemed rehearsed, although he'd substituted it for a different sentence halfway through.

" I know that already!" I snapped. "_'we'? _Whose we?" I demanded.

"Deidara, I don't know. Your friends-_our friends_, were worried, that's all." He murmured to me, as though he head a headache and was trying to quieten me without self-inflicting pain. Or like I was a child causing a scene.

_'Reverie whisper in my ear,'_

"Who are they….? And when do I get to meet them?" I realised the car had parked into a driveway, of a home that looked only slightly larger than the average one I'd seen on TV. The house was quaint, and very oriental, surrounded by cherry-blossom trees I imagined looking gorgeous in spring, and picturesque in winter. So much was I dazzled by the two-story house, small koi ponds either side of the trees, that I forgot my question for a moment, whisked away into my next transitory thought.

_'My imagination's taking me away.'_

Both out of the car, I heard the motorized click of the car lock and turned to be greeted by an even more languid looking Itachi, leaning against the roof of his car, chin rested on the makeshift pillow of his arms. "Tomorrow. Like Ino said, we have to give _them _all journals too. Besides, it's a school day."

Of course, he was correct. Today was mid week, Suiyobi. Wednesday. But we were nineteen years of age. I was under the impression we'd finished high school.

"Don't look so gormless. Ever heard of college?" He asked condescendingly.

"How the hell am I supposed to go to college when I don't remember anything!" I asked incredulously as we made our way towards the front door of his home.

He scoffed, before revising his early statement. "Well, I wouldn't call it a school. We're just a bunch of over and underachievers with lots of free time spliced into a prototype performing arts academy."

"Academy?"

"No, more like building in which we actually end up with degrees in lunacy for being guinea pigs."

"Eh?" I cocked my head to the side. This was similar to the little stunt he'd pulled in the car. I had to wonder if this guy was even talking to me. Maybe I was one of the more sane people in this world, which didn't help in calming my suspicions that he was actually never my friend but just some creepy guy that was taking me home to molest me. But I was intrigued. Performing arts? Sounded like fun. "I take it you don't like this thing, whatever it is."

Pushing the front door aside, a sliding, plain and panelled with dark oak colour, a genuinely soft expression formed on his face. Or, at least I could tell he was much more fond of this place than his words let on. "This is our second year of the project. It's from fifteen to twenty-three, but there are only three age groups."

While he spoke, I stumbled in, half taking in the dark looking room, and the absence of anybody else, but more enthralled to be hearing someone telling me things about my life, rather than being asked the same monotonous questions. Maybe I hadn't lived as badly as I'd imagined.

He began to ascend a set of stairs, the polished-looking floor cool against my feet as I followed his beckoning hand. "Tell me more."

"Well, first is fifteen to seventeen, second is eighteen to twenty, and third is twenty one to three. We have two practical exams; one mid-year, where we choose groups within our classes. This one mixes with theory, as we have to write our own script and our own stage directions, as well as create our own costumes. However, another division is in charge of lights, media and background, but we give them requests for what we wish."

He'd no need to flick on a light, as it turns out he had a large window, equipped with a balcony. The light that flooded though the door swathed the room in sunlight, and although his bedroom's general colour was dangerously close to white, it was a more war, creamy colour. The floor was wooden, shiny like the room we'd walked though, but the walls were milky, adorned with all kinds of fascinating things, posters, a _katana_ of all things, which I hoped was for decorative purposes only, a shelf of many novels, and trophies, and many objects adorn with a symbol of a red and white fan that appeared very often. If I'd been paying attention correctly, I would have seen that the mark engraved into one of the foundation panels that kept the house up. Red and black were also prominent colours in his room, the furniture varying between the three complimentary shades.

I sat down on his bed, a little uncomfortable, though I still wanted to hear more about this 'place', for lack of better word. It sounded like a project, if anything.

"And the second one?" I asked him as he padded over from a closet I'd scarcely noticed from the other side of the room and seated himself in a lotus position on his bed.

"The second is a production put on by our entire class at the end of the year, and not separately. However, this proves difficult, with only twenty of us, some having to play more than one part. We all became friends when we chose to work together for the first half, if you're wondering. This year, we've already performed our 'sequel', to the first, since it was so popular in our first year."

I nodded. "So we're all…actors? Or, learning to act?"

"Leaning to _perform._ We do other things, too. In fact, we have a whole class dedicated to music, one to drama, and one to costume. The reason it starts from fifteen is that they recruit people from nearby schools to attend part time, in the first group. Most of us are chosen and don't have much say in the matter, but you're one of the ones that came of their own accord."

Even though I could sense there was little more he could add at this point, my thirst to know more still hadn't been quenched. "Do you have any pictures?" I asked.

His unusual coloured eyes rolled to the ceiling, contemplating. "I have one." He mumbled, disappearing into his closet and pulling out a photo frame. He was cautious as he returned to me, sitting close enough so that I could easily see over his shoulder from where I was sitting if I turned.

"What on earth happened to the glass?" I asked. It was cracked, though not shattered, reminding me of a tree in the manner that individual cracks branched out, making it slightly difficult to see what was underneath in places.

"I dropped it." He answered quickly. Choosing to dismiss this, I peered down closer at the image.

There was a picture, with eleven of us-me included, all dressed in plain-black clothing and various levels of costume makeup. We all varied in appearance significantly. A guy with skin that looked a ghoulish blue grinned with the sharpest teeth I ever remember seeing, a pair of twins, one painted black, and one white stood to the side, chests pressed together. A small, cheerful looking boy who resembled Itachi a little, even with slight wrinkles under his one visible red eye. A tanned guy with tattoos on his face that made it seem as though his face was held together by stitching, was scowling at an albino with bright magenta eyes and a cheeky smirk, and a small girl with blue hair holding a paper-crane was standing next to a tall ginger boy with many piercings, her head resting on his shoulder. I was off to the bottom left of the picture where the crack seemed to have begun; one of the shortest and wedged in-between Itachi and an even more solemn-looking redhead. Despite that, his irises were a warm, chocolaty colour, and our shoulders brushed one another teasingly as if good friends. My heart jumped slightly as I tried to memorize these faces, silently apologizing in my head for ever forgetting them.

"And this, is our group?" Looking at him for conformation. He nodded, his eyes trained on the cracks which could so easily be made into fragments, should the frame be mishandled any further. Part of me questioned why he hadn't removed it, but my own penchant for discord kept me from asking.

"What are we called?" I wondered allowed.

I hadn't expected it to be too mind-blowing, maybe named after a colour, or a number. I assumed we were allowed some freedom while choosing names, but then I imagined it would have to parallel the other group somewhat. But little did I know I would soon fall in love with the word he uttered, once again. So what if it was for a second time? I would learn to love this second life I'd been given, while hunting for my old. Which also meant playing along with what he and Ino said.

With a devious smirk, he responded.

"Akatsuki."

_'And remember to laugh 'cause you're living in a crazy world,_  
><em>Where you'll never guess what could happen next.'<em>

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><p><strong>And that's a wrap on our little 'prologue'! Let the games begin indeed.<strong>

**Btw, this whole 'project' idea is completely my own, so it might be a little confusing. Feel free to ask if you didn't understand Itachi's explanation, although it should become clearer in later chapters anyway...It seems to be a running theme for me to put Deidara in stranger's cars...and then living with them. -_-' (see other SasoDei)**

**'Hermit-revolution', don't kill me, but there might still be some spelling mistakes. XD**

**And thank you for reading, I'm handing out delicious introductory marshmallows of Sasodei doom to reviewers. :D**


	2. Room 250

**Hi. Sorry this update is so late….I'm quite busy at the mo. But I'll try and make sure the next update is as soon as possible. Thanks you all for the reviews of the last chapter, they were much appreciated. ^^ And I suppose it goes without saying that I thank OneSecondEternity for directing half of you in my direction. XD**

**But, anyway, let's hope chapter 2 was worth the wait, eh? I'm getting anxious just thinking about it!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto! Or Sasori, or Deidara or- (*muffle muffle*)**

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><p>Now, I wasn't an early riser, I'd deducted, and I was under the impression that where we were going had the same foundational structure of punctuality and time that any school did. So I was pleasantly surprised to be lulled to consciousness by the small of food, rather than a sadistic Itachi with a whip, andor a cold bucket of water.

Rubbing sleep from my eyes with a yawn, I thought back to the night before After I'd had my fill of looking at my friend's faces, mixing in personalities and traits to fit their looks, while Itachi gazed off to the side in a subdued silence and left me to my own devices, he gave me a brief tour of the house, where my boundaries were (I had very few. But I'd sort of set my own for the time being), and showed me to my spare room. The interior wasn't a neutral one you'd expect of a spare room; pale and routine, so as not to offend, but not particularly interesting either. The walls were black, bordered with a single strip of crimson though the middle of the wall, several items left next to a mirror on the dresser as though the room had not long been vacated. It crossed my mind for a moment that there were so many things I hadn't asked Itachi, and so I added how long they'd lived in this home to my progressively growing list. When I'd first entered the room, the curtains had been sloppily tugged back, as opposed to a fresher, pinned-back look that I'd grown accustomed to. They dangled limply, allowing the morning rays to beat back enough energy for me to rise. And yet, Itachi claimed that this personalised room was simply a spare.

I blinked as I rose in bed, stretching like a cat as I gave a roar of a yawn. I couldn't quite identify the smell, but as I peered around my bedroom door, wondering if closing the distance would make it any clearer. The sound of laughter pooled down the hallway, greeting my ears in a way nothing in this house had. It almost seemed out of place, with the silent, spotless ambiance of the night before. I was positive such a hearty sound couldn't come from Itachi. My feelings were confirmed when I heard the soprano of a female voice join it. The sound settled my anxiety, and made me feel bold enough to leave the room, the sudden sense of security inviting. Hearing a quietly sighed insult from a voice slightly more shrill that Itachi's, yet gruffer, I paused again for a moment, weighing my options. I ran back through yesterday again, counting in my head the brief mention of the other occupants of the house. If I was right, they were all there, now. I nodded my head decisively. Now or never.

I descended the stairs, one foot at a time as I held onto the mahogany banister tightly. With each hesitant step I took, the mixed buzz of the household's murmur increased in volume. Peering around the last corner that acted as my obstacle and protective barrier, I noted that I had been correct. Seated around a rectangular table was Itachi, dressed already and helping himself to a bowl of food. From across the table to him sat two younger boys, one a spitting image of Itachi, yet his complexion even more pale, and his bizarrely spiked hair tinted a dark blue. A dozen bird analogies went through my head, as I noted that his eyes favoured an onyx colour, as opposed to Itachi's bright red irises. Beside him, his polar opposite; another blonde boy, his locks honey coloured and flicking out in an impish disarray that I approved of. With bright blue eyes, a Cheshire cat grin, and scars on his face akin to whiskers, I couldn't tell which of the pair made better devils or angels. And finally, a female young, yet much older than us, turned from her place across the room to set the last morsel of breakfast down to complete the mouth-watering set. With skin akin to the other boy, and a cascade of ebony flowing down her back, I identified her as Itachi and his Brother's Mother.

The first to notice me, she acknowledged me with a quiet smile and a nod, before placing some utensils on the table to match the last bowl. "Itachi." She prompted in a murmur, inclining her head to me. At that, all three heads turned in my direction. All Uchihas looked non-plussed, whereas the blonde peered curiously around Itachi's brother, a knowing smile on his face.

Once again, I grumbled to myself inside my head. Why did everyone always want _me _to make the first move? "Hi. I'm Itachi's friend, Deidara. " I bowed again.

Itachi blinked at the chiding scowl she gave him, before she beamed at me again. At least someone was on my side. "Hi Deidara. Nice to meet you. That's Naruto, and Sasuke." She pointed to them as she spoke. "Ignore Sasuke. He's not a 'morning' person." She giggled, Naruto barking out a laugh as Itachi snorted and Sasuke's eyes travelled languidly across the table to give her a half-hearted glare. Even I cracked a smile when she said something about hormones. "Oh, and you can call me Mikoto. Come and eat with us, Deidara." I grinned sheepishly, seating myself next to Itachi, who nodded to me before sending a teasing smirk to Sasuke, which received a glare. As I pondered over what that little transaction could have meant, Naruto grinned at me from across the table, falling into a conversation with Sasuke, and as the murmuring continued, the morning went off without anymore hitches.

"So this is you guy's first year?" I asked.

"Yeah. It took a while to choose a name, but in the end, we called it 'black wing.'" He snickered. "I was all for calling it 'Naruto'…" He made a show of making 'jazz hands' as he gazed up into the space above him. I wasn't the only one to roll my eyes at that one.

We explored the vast hallways inside the half-abandoned building. It was rich in dust and 'knowledge', and old. The 'grand piano' type of place, with high, mahogany arches and huge scenic windows from which we could see what easily could have once been a campus of some kind. Itachi mentioned something about it being a derelict boarding school on the way to Sasuke and Naruto's high school.

It was evening, not quite dark, but the sun at its peak and giving way to dusk to become the new monarch of the sky. Even if I couldn't really remember attending the school, the thought of something out of the norm was exciting. My chest pounded painfully with anticipation and weariness all at once as I fell into step with Naruto and Sasuke. My original plan had been to wedge myself between them and gain Naruto's attention. He was sociable, and I easily felt comfort around him, as opposed to Sasuke who had said few words to me without prompting from Naruto or Itachi. The two were joined at the hip. Practically inseparable, even though their charade of bickering. Every now and then Sasuke would glare at Naruto, or administer a slap or punch, to which Naruto would respond with equal violence. But then the grin would re-appear on his face, and Sasuke would direct his attention elsewhere, their sleeves brushing from close proximity. I almost expected more teasing from Itachi, but if he noticed anything he hadn't said so.

"-And so ours was just as good as good as Akatsuki's." Naruto finished accounting to me the tail of _their_ class's debut performance. Avengers, a love triangle, lots of guns. They were younger, and had way more girls in their group, which obviously meant they had to appease them somehow. Although I'd have loved to see the special effects for the guns. Why I wasn't in the 'behind the scenes' branch I didn't know. I didn't exactly feel like an exhibitionist at the moment.

Sasuke scoffed, his head turning in our direction nonchalantly. "Please. Ours was _better _than Akatsuki…" He boasted unashamedly.

"Watch that mouth of yours, _little brother._ I'd hate to remind you just who is superior in the relationship."

That comment ruffled his feathers particularly well. "Superior my ass! I can beat you any day of the week, Itachi!" He snarled.

"Where was I during this alleged 'but whooping'? The only thing I've seen you do to my behind is ki-"

I flinched, immediately throwing myself out of the path of danger as he launched for Itachi. I blinked, and Sasuke was pinned to the floor, arm restrained behind his back by one of Itachi's, his other on Sasuke's head as he sat on his back. He blinked theatrically, as if only just noticing that he had an audience.

"Oh, look, you've embarrassed yourself in front of our audience." Naruto rolled his eyes, mumbling a warning to Itachi as he dusted himself off and extended a hand to Sasuke. Begrudgingly, he took it, his face flushed as he looked anywhere but our direction. I glanced at Naruto questioningly.

"Brotherly love; Itachi pisses Sasuke off, Sasuke looses fight. Both have odd bonding moment. Frequent pass time. Itachi gets a sadistic kick out of it." At Naruto's explanation, he earned an icy stare (it wasn't even a glare. They were good at getting their point across with out actually…Doing anything.), and a somewhat more chipper looking older brother. Maybe they weren't as similar as I had imagined.

We continued walking for a short while more, before the two younger of our little foursome paused in front of a door labelled '207'. I stared at the golden number imbedded in the door, my chest jumping in that nasty, yet pleasant way again.

"This is our stop." Naruto announced, hooking an arm around Sasuke's shoulders. After a moment, he removed it calmly. "Good luck, Dei!" he called, and then the two were gone, the hallway momentarily resounding with the sound of the old door clicking shut.

Following Itachi once more, I stared at the smile on his face incredulously. "So you _are_ a sadist."

"The brightest of them," he chirped through his monotone, a skip in his step. I considered fleeing, before weighing the cons. Sasuke was used to Itachi's fights. It'd probably take _less_ than a blink for him to grab me and haul me back. I got the feeling he knew what I was thinking, because he smiled in a way that was enough to show a tiny bit of teeth, without his mouth looking alarmingly wide. I decided then and there that subtle insanity was the worst kind.

And then we stopped again. From inside, I could hear a voice. Only one. The acoustics in this building were really interesting. I wondered if it had been abandoned before this because the echo was disruptive. Or if it was perfectly normal when filled with the bustle of hectic students and lots of furniture. This looked…Barren.

My eyes panned upwards, away from Itachi pressing the tips of his fingers against the door and waiting for my signal. Ironically enough, this was the last door on the hall, and the wing. The number read '250', in a shining silver, contrasting oddly with the neglected gold. Chrome snakes encircled the numbers, coiling around them in a dangerous embrace. I raised a brow, but decided to store it away to ask about later. I nodded my head, licking my lips as he pressed the handle and put enough pressure on to push the door forward.

He paused. "Oh, and a word of warning; whatever you do, just relax. He likes that." I opened my mouth to ask who, but he was already halfway though the threshold. I followed hurriedly.

I half expected it to be like it was in those TV dramas, where the new kid was ogled at, and everything was put on hold for me at my chagrin. But as we glided across the room, to the west side, not one eye strayed from the teacher. Through the adrenaline, I managed to make out long inky hair, ashen skin and moss green eyes that shone as he talked animatedly to the small group of students. His eyes strayed to mine for only a second of brief acknowledgement, before he continued whatever he was talking about.

There were plenty of spare seats. I pondered idly if they were redundant, or if they really belonged to student who may or may not show. I still wasn't quite familiar with how it worked. I settled between Itachi and a girl with long, magenta hair and a black bandanna. At my approach her fingers flitted protectively over her flute as a reflex, a strange, dark tattoo travelling from said fingers, around her wrist, and as far up her arm as was exposed. So this place had musicians, too.

Again, besides that little action, she wasn't too bothered by my presence. It was then that I realised why that was. I _wasn't _a new kid. These were faces I once knew, perhaps came to grow fond of, they had memories of my life, my face, that I didn't. I scanned the room for any faces from the picture, and to my happiness, I picked several from where I sat, though not all. Grinning wildly, I clicked my heels against my chair wildly as I fiddled with my hands, threading them in and out of each other. From the side, Itachi, who had been watching me, closed his eyes, a little 'hn' of approval greeting my ears. For his presence, I was grateful. He'd made easing back into the normal world much swifter then I'd expected. Though I wasn't ready to branch away from him just yet. I could say, and feel, that in this life, seamlessly beginning to thread itself into my old one, that Itachi was my friend. And nobody forced that thought from me.

He knew as much.

* * *

><p>"So, fucker. Welcome back!" The albino slammed his hands on the table frantically. He did it with so much enthusiasm that his rosary swooped up and hit me in the face.<p>

"Don't scare him with your stupidity, moron." A voice to the side grumbled. My eyes widened as I noticed the Akatsuki approaching me one by one. It was time for a half- hour break from Orochimaru sensei's lecture, and I'd almost slipped my mind that I'd still yet to meet my 'crew'. A part of me also took into account the fact that none of them had changed much from their pictures. I'd assumed that it had been theatrical makeup for the most part, but it seems that our gang did things seriously. The eight, possibly more piercings I spotted on the orange-haired guy and the huge tattoo across the face of the grumpy looking guy were proof of that.

"Give the poor guy some space." The only girl in the crowd approached me, pushing the sliver haired guy out of her way and sitting on my desk. Upon closer inspection, she had one tiny piercing below her lip, too. It moved slightly as she gave me an inviting smile. "I think introductions are necessary."

I nodded gingerly, waiting for her to tell me her name. "So, I'm Konan….That's Pein…" She pointed to the orange-haired dude. What kind of parent called their child that? Unless it wasn't his real name… "Husband and Wife over there are Kakuzu and Hidan." She jerked her thumb in the general direction of the two that had spoken earlier.

"Oi, bitch! Its bad enough snake eyes says it! Don't think I won't sacrifice you just because you have piss flaps!"

After a death scowl, she turned and poked the big, blue guy with spiky hair and sharp teeth that Itachi had turned around to. He waved his hand in a wide arc at me. "Kisame." Then inclined her head to the right, where the two 'painted' boys stood, Identical. One scowled at me, and the other stared at me like I was a piece of meat. The only difference in their appearance was the colour of their clothes. One in white, and one in black. "Zetsu. Er…." She backtracked, waving her hands wildly. "That's what they tell us to call them. But we differentiate by personality. They like to mix colours up. Today, they're wearing the right ones, but you'll have to learn quick. Shiro Zetsu and Kuro Zetsu." Well, that was the longest introduction so far.

"Konan sempai!" A muffled voice asked. "Can I be next?" The boy who still had an eye patch asked. An orange lolly lolled to the side of his mouth, puffing his cheek out as he beamed with the same red eyes Itachi possessed. Konan giggled. "Sure."

"I'm Tobi!" He wiggled his fingers at me. Despite his size, quite taller than some of the members, me being one of them, he was the most childish. Staring at his eye patch, I wondered what was underneath it that was too obscured to show in public even now.

I peered around me at all the different degrees of expression, from Hidan's gum-revealing leer to Konan's humble little glance. I waited anxiously for the introductory air to fizzle out to awkwardness and for the words on everyone's tongues to freeze away, but eventually everyone dissolved into mindless chatter in their messy semi-circle around my desk, enjoying each other's company and mine. Adding the occasional word to integrate myself into their conversation without actually being too involved, I was well aware of the light creak from the door and the lean figure that peaked through the crack, before pushing the door out of his path and making his way over to a flailing Orochimaru Sensei on the other side of the room, whom then attempted light banter with him, and failed, giving a martyred pout in his direction before dismissing him.

He wandered over to us blindly, seamlessly navigating through desks and other animate objects, nose buried into the same navy folder he'd ambled into the room with. Luck finally catching up to him as he bumped into Kisame, his head jerked up, revealing the same russet eyes from the shattered picture.

"Ah-sorry I kept you waiting, guys. Tsunade-sensei went off on another of her drunken rambles. And Shizune was out. I think that's why the snake bastard sent me. Rotten fool." He grumbled. Well, I say grumbled, but it was too soft to be one. Yet the undertone of annoyance gave his murmur a gruff quality. I watched as his bloody-tinted hair followed his movements, a long, stray strand caught between his lips for a moment before he brushed it away indifferently. He'd yet to see me, and yet I waited, entranced.

"But for you guys to wait, Jeeze, what's the occasion?" He mocked.

At this comment, several of them stiffened. I cocked my head to the side as Hidan huffed and evaded the slowly creeping awkwardness. "You threatened to cut my balls off, that's why. Little red-headed shit."

I waited for Konan to create a link for me to grapple on, but as she said nothing, simply inching close enough to Pein to touch his fingers, a furrow in her brow, I grew impatient. "Yo." I called, jerking my chin up slightly.

Everybody's heads snapped towards me, his included.

"Deidara." He spoke my name, faintly startled. He seemed to dabble between expressions, for settling on a frown. "You're back."

"And I want to know your name." I told him, oddly not put off by the frown in the slightest. In his presence, my movements abruptly grew to be bolder, as though my mind wanted a challenge. No one had dared frown at me like that yet, and it instantly had me on my toes.

"That's not how you ask for someone's name, _brat._" He scoffed. But I noticed how his shoulders tensed at the word slipping from his mouth. My eyes strayed from his long enough to notice that Konan's hand was now firmly in Pein's palm.

"And I'm pretty sure that's not how you greet people. So give me your name and we're even."

He paused, frown settling into a glower, before the corner of his mouth turned up into a tiny crooked smirk. "You still have backbone. Fine, you earned it. Sasori." His already loose tongue spit out rather lethargically at me.

_Sasori._

Not even realising I'd leaned forward in my zeal, I sat back, contented by our little game as I fought to lessen the grin on my face. He blinked his long lashes at me, his face completely apathetic again and the tiny hint of amusement gone with it.

"Five minuets, guys!" A guy with silver hair who dressed way too smart at the front clapped his hands at us. I snickered as I noticed Orochimaru rolling his eyes behind his back from his perch at the front, but not commenting any further.

"Today was pointless." Kisame whined as we exited the not-so-daunting door on our way out. It'd been hard for me to follow, at first, but once I'd gotten over the initial nerves, it seemed like our teacher was as harmless as a gnat. Besides his Zealous personality he clearly wanted to be infectious. I'd noticed he'd given every pupil he'd interacted with a little nickname. He'd go from dramatic idiot to a professional educator with a dangerous streak in a matter of moments. _Scorpling, Jaws, Husband and Wife. _ And the other student loved him for it. It was a twisted routine they'd all seemed to have slipped into. Who was I to question it?

"But someone caused quite a stir in today's agenda…" Itachi gave me a pointed glance before responding to Sasuke's call a head of us. We spilled out into the dark, a hundred creatively-recruited students milling around us and making their own way home.

"Really? I didn't notice." I retorted, waving as the group began to disperse and part ways in front of the large fountain. Only Sasori lingered with us as Naruto struggled to tow a reluctant Sasuke over to us.

"Will you continue to keep us on our toes?" He stood beside me, his eyes completely dismissing my presence and settling on the blonde and dark-haired teens.

"I need something to do, don't I, Sasori?" I whispered, playing his game in every sense of the word. We spoke low enough so that Itachi couldn't hear us, though I didn't know why.

He 'hmphed', closing his eyes for a moment as his lips twitched, before taking his own leave, Naruto and Sasuke less than a yard from us now.

"Then I look forward to it." He shrugged, tossing a hand over his shoulder in farewell.

He continued around the corner, his body devoured slowly by the rapidly approaching night.

* * *

><p><strong>And So the Akatsuki officially come into the picture! Yay or Nay?<strong>

**Thanks for reading…Let me know what you make of it!**


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